Mis-judgment day for Metts

The Last Resort - COMMENTARY

An incomplete sentence -- that's what career scam artist Jim Metts received Monday in a Seminole County courtroom. Justice was not just blind this morning, it was half-awake.

How else to explain not giving jail time to the handyman who for the past five years has repeatedly, unabashedly -- theatrically -- conned Central Florida consumers out of thousands of dollars for projects he never did or butchered beyond repair.

Last month, the man who became infamous for recruiting victims in the aisles of Home Depot and Lowe's pleaded guilty in Seminole Circuit Court to charges of organized scheme to defraud and grand theft, both felonies. He was already on probation after pleading guilty to similar charges in Orange County.

Metts faced up to five years in prison, but Judge Marlene Alva saw no reason to alter a negotiated plea giving him one year of "community control" (virtual house arrest), followed by four years of supervised probation. He was ordered to pay a total of $10,075 in restitution to seven victims, and never to darken the door of any home-improvement store.

Metts, 51, was in a baby-blue polo shirt, glasses dangling from the open collar, and khaki slacks. He sat in the back of the courtroom, oblivious to stabbing, backward glances from some of his victims up front, until Alva summoned him forward to be sentenced. His pudgy, benign face -- reminiscent of Happy Days actor Tom Bosley -- belies a larcenous guile. On this unhappy day, he did not address the court or his victims.

"I can't believe I was stupid enough to give him $800 upfront, just like he was my best friend," said David Burns. "If he had been an actor he probably would have had seven Academy Awards by now."

"He's very good," agreed Julie Smith. She and her husband, Chuck, hired Metts to install a door and windows in their home. They never got the windows and were awarded a $5,500 small claims judgment, which they've never been able to collect from Metts.

Chuck was apoplectic when Alva named seven victims due restitution from Metts, and he was not included. Wielding a thick sheaf of legal papers, Smith flagged down an attorney for the state to ask why he was not on the list. After hurried consultations between attorneys and judge, Smith's $5,500 claim was added to the total Metts must repay.

The sloppy legal work on behalf of the Smiths was a reminder, and reflection, of Florida's pathetically weak consumer-protection laws -- the jurisprudential equivalent of Milk Bone underwear in a dog-eat-dog marketplace.

Judy Colley came for the sentencing, and she wasn't sure why. She was scammed by Metts in 2005 and won an uncollectible $2,950 small-claims judgment, but for reasons never fully explained she was not included in this case.

"I don't know why I came -- I really don't," she said before the sentencing. "I don't wish bad things for people, but he just needs something."

Afterward, Metts' assembled victims -- even those listed for restitution -- unanimously agreed that the "something" meted out by Alva was barely north of nothing. Several said they would give up their restitution to see Jim Metts wearing a Home Depot-orange jumpsuit issued by the state. Alva did not explain her decision in court and was unavailable for comment later in the day.

Colley will never see her money again, but seeing Jim Metts and visiting with her fellow victims had clarified her thoughts and provided a sort of closure.

"For the rest of my life," she said, "every 10 years I'm going down to the courthouse and renewing my lien on his property, so he can never sell it without paying me. And if I don't get paid in this lifetime, I will pass it [the lien] on to my kids."